Consequences of Apathy
by Natasi
Summary: After a devastating end to his 5th year, Harry finds himself feeling apathetic about life in general and starts on a path that could eventually lead to dire consequences. Harry Potter/Charlie Weasley
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** Anything actually recognizable from Harry Potter is obviously not mine. I am simply borrowing the characters to do unspeakable things with them.

**Summary:** After a devastating end to his 5th year, Harry finds himself feeling apathetic about life in general and starts on a path that could eventually lead to dire consequences. Luckily, an oft absent acquaintance makes an appearance and steps in where no one else will.

**Author's Note:** This is my first fanfiction ever and I have not written anything in years so do not expect an epic novella. I love constructive criticism and encourage readers to point out spelling and grammar mistakes. As a reader, spelling and grammar mistakes make my head implode so I do not want to be guilty of the same errors. Also, this story is slash, will likely contain some kinky naughtiness, and will have MPREG toward the end. If that is an issue, stop now!

**Prologue**

Mornings in Little Whinging were never pleasant. There was always breakfast to be made, windows to wash, floors to scrub, and other acts of random drudgery to accomplish. This morning, though, the first morning after returning to Little Whinging after the events at the Ministry, was by far the worst yet.

After a bleak train ride back to London and the usual inane yet biting insults from his uncle, Harry fell into bed with no intention of falling asleep. Exhaustion eventually won out, and Harry was treated to a continuous loop of his godfather, Sirius Black, falling through the veil in the Department of Mysteries. Mingled with that visual was the oily, permeating, scratching feeling of Voldemort's possession.

When morning came, Harry was far from rested; he felt as though he had been burnt raw, inside and out, and was left with an overwhelming feeling of _heaviness_ and grief. Combined with the splitting headache and burning scar, Harry simply did not have the will to care that his whale of cousin was not going have his typical morning fry-up as he had come to expect with the return of the 'freak'.

Oddly enough, it was a burdgeoning sense of apathy that drove Harry from his bed.

'I slept in my clothes, I should change' was Harry's first thought, followed closely by 'why bother?'

Reaching into the space under the loose floorboard in his room, Harry sighed with relief when his rummaging produced forty pounds. After making his way downstairs and out the front door, to the tune of his Aunt Petunia's shrieking voice, Harry proceeded to make his way toward the small downtown area three kilometers, give or take, from Privet Drive.

Thinking about the reasons that drove him out the front door of his relative's house allowed the vestiges of his nightmare to creep back into his mind so he decided to avoid really thinking and continued his apathetic musings.

'Why bother staying cooped up with the Dursley's and be even more miserable when I can occupy myself with walking. It is not as if they can threaten me with anything worse than what I have experienced in the past two years unless Vernon is a now a psychotic murderer and Petunia has perfected demon possession of some sort.'

Coming to a corner market, Harry watched as a teenager a bit older than himself lit up a cigarette and happily sauntered away.

'What the hell, why not?' was Harry's initial and uncharacteristic first thought. After a quite embarrassing exchange with the clerk, Harry left the market with his own pack of cigarettes and a lighter.

'Now to find somewhere out of the way so that I can look like a complete fool without any witnesses'. Stepping off the sidewalk into an alley, Harry opened his cigarettes, clumsily lit the end of a cigarette, and took his first inhale.

'Bloody buggering hell, that is disgusting!' Deciding to persevere, though, Harry finished the cigarette and was rewarded with a pleasant nicotine induced head rush.

After going back to the market for a cold drink, Harry continued his trek through town. He had yet to figure out what it was that he was looking for, but he at least found that smoking gave his hands something to do and helped his mind to feel sharp without actually having to focus on anything.

He soon decided that he really did not give a damn about the free labor his relative's expected, veils, snake-faced demons, or any Boy–Who-Lived related nonsense. Simply walking and smoking was plenty to think about at the moment.

Now that he understood the appeal of smoking grossly carcinogenic sticks of dried plant matter, chemicals, and paper, he found himself wondering what else there was to experience.

'Well, London may have just what I am looking for' was Harry's last thought before setting off to find a bus schedule.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note:** Thank you to those who reviewed and added my fic to either your favorites or alerts. I was really shocked and amazed by the number of readers that added me for a story alert! I know these chapters are terribly and irritatingly short, but this is just the build up to the main part of the story and the chapters will get longer as we get closer to the _real_ story.

**Chapter 1: London**

London was proving to be an interesting experience. Harry had never had the opportunity to visit London except when he passed through on his way to and from King's Cross Station. Needless to say, Hagrid and Uncle Vernon were not exactly tour guide material.

Deciding he did not care when he made his way back to Little Whinging, Harry continued to wander the streets of London well past sunset. Finding benches near a club with loud music and scantily clad patrons walking in and out the front door, Harry lit another cigarette, 'I am really going to have to get another pack', took a long drag, and closed his eyes as he pondered his next steps. Realizing forty pounds of cash, minus the cost of soon to be two packs of cigarettes, was not going to last him through the week, not to mention the summer, he knew that more funds were in order.

Harry cringed as he contemplated going to Gringott's. 'Well, I am more than able to go to Diagon Alley. Bugger, I left my wand at Privet Drive and I really should get a cloak and my key out of my trunk if I am going to go to Gringott's. I wonder how hard it is to pick a lock, I doubt uncle Vernon will just open the cupboard so that I can get into my trunk...'

So lost was he in his own thoughts, Harry never realized that he was no longer alone on the bench.

"So are you waiting for someone before you go in, or are you just here to brood on a bench?"

Harry jumped at the unexpected voice, promptly burnt his fingers on his still lit cigarette, and replied elegantly to the newcomer, 'huh?'

"I asked if you were waiting for someone or just brooding. If you are waiting for someone then I will leave you to it" Flashing a cheeky grin, the newcomer continued, "If you are brooding, why not do it inside in a better atmosphere and with better company?"

Silently spluttering, Harry looked wide-eyed at the man, 'oh Merlin, is he hitting on me', and continued in the same manner as his prior response. "Umm..."

Recognizing the potential for innocent and malleable company, the man decided to ingratiate himself with the teen as fast as possible. "Chatty one aren't you? I'm Michael, and you're interesting. How about a drink and a dance?"

Harry was having difficulty recovering from his shock. He was a bit giddy at the prospect of a quasi-date with a man. He knew that he was at the very least bi, but most likely gay. Any girl that he ever found attractive, namely Cho, was always flat-chested and on a broom. Males on the other hand, could almost always turn his head. Unfortunately, he had not had a great deal of time to actually explore that facet of himself as of yet. 'Why not find out, now is as good a time as any. Although, I have no idea how he determined that I am interesting. I have said two words and can't really look all that appealing being that it is the second day in these clothes. At least they are not Dudley's cast-offs.'

"Uh sure, I guess. My name is Harry by the way."

Grinning, the man sidled up next to Harry and took hold of his hand in a seemingly friendly gesture. "Fantastic Harry, let's see about that drink then, shall we?

Harry let himself be led into the club.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note:** This chapter went in a bit of an unexpected direction, and I ended up writing naughtiness ahead of schedule. This is the first time I have written a slash scene, so I hope I do not disappoint!

**Chapter 2: The Club**

Being pulled into a club by essentially a total stranger would, under normal circumstances, usually be quite worrisome for Harry. At the moment though, Harry was only thinking about how the loud music, the press of bodies, and the strong cool hand pulling him along seemed to drown out the noise that seemed to be always present within him.

Looking around, Harry took in the variety of club-goers surrounding him. 'I never knew I could feel underdressed in jeans and a pullover when surrounded by people wearing variations of black leather, boots, collars, and corsets.'

Realizing that Michael was no longer pulling him along, Harry found that they had stopped at the bar and Michael was beginning to place an order with a bartender. Harry allowed himself to be pulled closer, and Michael leaned into him so that he could talk directly into his ear. "Isn't this much better than brooding on a bench? Now, you strike me as someone who would prefer a fruitier drink so I ordered you a Strawberry Margarita with a double shot of Tequila for that _little extra bite_."

Harry felt himself shudder slightly when Michael spoke the last three words so close to his ear that he swore he felt Michael's teeth scrape against the shell of his ear.

The bartender handed them their drinks and Harry found himself happily sipping his drink, 'Michael was right, this is really good and apparently that little extra bite is good for making my lips and fingers tingle', and taking in the scene around him while Michael explained the club to him.

"This area across from the bar is the dance floor which is pretty self-explanatory. Down that hallway on the other side of the room and to the left is a play area where you can go watch people participate in whatever scenes they come up with using the available equipment and props. Down the hall and to the right is a smaller, quieter dance floor with alcoves where couples can go for a bit more privacy."

Confused, Harry asked, "What do you mean by scenes and equipment?"

Michael didn't know whether to snort or laugh at Harry's naiveté. "Don't worry Harry, that is not for today, maybe at a later date. Come on, let's have a dance."

Harry quickly found himself on the dance floor, swaying to an unfamiliar song. With one hand on Harry's hip and the other on his waist, Michael pulled Harry as close as possible. Harry bit back a surprised gasp when Michael pressed his upper thigh against his crotch and used the leverage of his hand placement and greater height to keep Harry pressed firmly against his thigh. To Harry's uninitiated and oversensitive prick, the position combined with Michael's swaying in time with the percussion of the music was absolutely brilliant. The buzz from the alcohol he'd consumed made it even more so.

Harry gladly endured Michael's attentions for the next three songs. At times Michael would keep Harry pressed tight against himself and at other times, Michael would push him slightly away and use his hands to tease Harry's body. Harry learned that his nipples were incredibly sensitive the first time Michael ran his nails across them through the fabric of Harry's pullover. The first time Michael roughly pulled him back up against his thigh, Harry hissed in surprise and found himself wondering how that translated into parseltongue.

By the end of the third song, Michael was smirking to himself as Harry was practically mewling and desperately pressing his hips forward against Michael's thigh. "Come on baby, let's go some place quieter".

While naïve, Harry still realized that Michael had played him expertly and that following him to the back of the club was probably not the best of ideas. But the same apathy that let him wear the same clothes for two days straight and that led him away from Privet drive with nary a care was still in full force. Harry only knew that he liked not having to think about what he was doing since it was all being done for and to him and if he was honest with himself, he simply did not care what happened as long as it kept the memories and internal _noise_ at bay.

When they reached the smaller dance floor, Michael led Harry over to one of the more private alcoves in the back. As soon as they were both tucked away, Michael seemed to drop the control that he had been using to tease Harry. Harry found himself quickly pushed up against a wall. Micheal took Harry's right hand that he had been holding with his left and held it against the wall over Harry's head. Michael's right hand found it's slightly less than gentle way into Harry's hair, and placed his right thigh forcefully between Harry's legs. Harry couldn't help but groan, snap his hips forward, and cling to Michael's shirt with his free hand. Pressing their cheeks together, Michael whispered huskily into Harry's ear, "I want you to suck me baby, can you do that?"

Shakily, Harry stuttered out "I, I d-don't know, I n-never…."

"Shh, that's alright baby, just go with it, I'll help you along". Michael then, keeping his hand on top of Harry's head, disentangled himself from Harry enough that he could slightly step back and placed his other hand on Harry's shoulder and nudged him down onto his knees. He then took his hand from Harry's shoulder, unzipped his fly, and pulled his prick out. Harry's green eyes widened and he looked up at Michael questioningly. Michael let out a quiet groan when he saw that face looking up at him. He squeezed his prick to coax some pre-cum out and then rubbed the head across Harry's slightly parted lips. Michael encouragingly rubbed his foot between Harry's legs and prompted, "Go on baby, lick your lips then suck it."

Harry closed his eyes and did as requested. He felt a jolt of excitement as he took the older man's prick in his mouth. The whole situation, being on his knees, in a strange club, sucking a strange man's dick was beyond arousing. Even the sliver of fear that he could not avoid only added to the experience. Prior to this year, Harry probably would have felt guilty about his actions, if not outright ashamed of them. As it was, he just could not summon up the will to care beyond the fact that it felt really good.

During his musings, he realized that Michael had fallen into a rhythm and was holding Harry's head still as he basically fucked his mouth. More than once, Harry found himself gagging when the head of the man's dick touched the back of his throat. When Michael started to pick up his pace, Harry assumed that Michael would push his head away when he came; instead, Michael pulled his head further onto to his dick as he came down Harry's throat. Harry spluttered and inadvertently inhaled some of the cum instead of swallowing.

During Harry's coughing and spluttering, Michael pulled him up to his feet and began to rub him off earnestly through his jeans until he came. Harry ended up half leaning on Michael, head tipped back against the wall, Michael's cum on his chin, and his own cum in his trousers. A small flicker of shame made its way to the front of Harry's mind, but he quickly banished it in favor of his dirty afterglow.

Harry looked up to find Michael smirking at him, 'Merlin, with all of his self-satisfied smirking, I bet he would have been in Slytherin had he been a wizard'.

"Not bad baby, I bet you would have a brilliant time in the playroom."

Harry's dazed response was simply, "We'll see, I'm sure".


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note:** I am not sure how I feel about this chapter. I wanted to give some insight to Harry's thought process but I am not sure if I made it as clear as I intended.

Chapter 3: Reckoning and Routine

That first fateful night in the club ended with Harry making his way back to Privet Drive as the sun came up.

Vernon was, of course, furious. "Boy, where in the bloody Hell have you been all night. The meals will not cook themselves you ungrateful freak!"

Harry barely spared Vernon a glance as he made his way upstairs. He was surprised when he found himself being yanked roughly off of the second step. Vernon had fisted a handful of the back of Harry's shirt and _pulled_. Harry stumbled backwards but managed to stay upright.

"Where do you think you're going?" a flabbergasted Vernon yelled. Not that he cared where the 'boy' went, but by God, he would not be ignored in his own home.

With an obviously bored expression, Harry drawled "I'm going to bed. I'd hate to have to tell my friends that I am not allowed to sleep." He then turned and made his way up the stairs again.

A shocked Vernon simply let him walk away. "The boy is always a nuisance, but he is not usually outright defiant. He probably would set those damn freaks on us."

Harry passed by the by the bathroom, foregoing any morning ablutions, went into his room and threw himself onto his rickety bed. Now that he was back in the solitude of his own private thoughts, he again found his mind filled with _noise_. Thoughts of Sirius, 'God, Sirius no', Voldemort, 'Get out, get out, get out', a finicky wizarding world, and his own actions the night before swirled in his mind creating a cacophony of yearning, regrets, and shame.

So many of his thoughts were in conflict and he saw no possibility of resolution. He knew that he should be ashamed by his actions from the night before, 'I let some strange man use me, what was I thinking', but if he was honest with himself, he just did not care. He liked being surrounded by music; it drowned out the _noise_ in his mind and made it impossible to think about anything else. The oft ignored part of himself that was simply an unwanted orphan enjoyed the attention of an older man being focused solely on him. He knew logically that he should not have to submit himself in such a shameful manner to get some semblance of affection, but it felt so _good_ that he couldn't bring himself to care.

'If I want to go out again, I need to go to Gringott's and I definitely need to get more cigarettes.' The thought of cigarettes immediately led to a craving but he remembered that he had smoked his last one at the bus stop on his way back to Surrey. He wondered what the neighbors would think if they saw him flicking ashes out the window. 'They think I am an 'incurably criminal boy' anyhow, why not at least live up to the reputation. That role is much easier to play than the role of Boy-Who-Lived.'

With that final morose thought, Harry fell into an exhausted sleep. While he still dreamed, the dreams seemed to have lost a bit of their terrifying edge due to Harry's exhaustion.

Harry woke at two in the afternoon, and decided he would leave early and make his way to Gringott's. He mustered up the will to take a shower and to brush his teeth, then pocketed his wallet and vault. He debated bringing a cloak, but decided to brave Diagon Alley in muggle attire and a baseball cap so as not to have to carry a satchel to place the cloak in afterward. 'No one would expect me there anyway and no one even knows what Harry Potter looks like since they have never looked past the scar'.

The hour long bus ride passed quickly for Harry and he quickly made his way to the Leaky cauldron and entered Diagon Alley. Overall, the trip was surprisingly uneventful. Harry was able to make his way to Gringott's and retrieve enough gold from his vault to exchange for four hundred pounds; goblins apparently did not care who did business with them or why, so long as they did business with them. He was able to make his way back into muggle London and buy his long awaited pack of cigarettes. 'I am really going to have to figure out a way to smoke at Hogwarts. Huh, I wonder why I have never seen anyone else smoke. Even if it were only limited to muggleborns, I would think that I would know of at least one person who smokes.'

Walking in the same direction he did the night before, he debated whether or not to go back to the club he had found. He knew it wasn't the wisest course of action, but he really did not know where else to go and if he was honest with himself, he was hoping to find Michael again. He had yet to come to a conclusion about the 'Michael incident'. He knew that he found _it_, 'yes, yes Harry, just say _it_, because I can't even _think_ the correct term without blushing. Brilliant Harry', exciting, but he was even more excited about the companionship that did not require any effort on his part, 'Huh, who is using who in this scenario?'

Deciding on a course of action, Harry made his way to the club. After paying the door charge, he spent the next fifteen minutes wandering until he came to the play room in the book. He then spent the next half hour watching a variety of scenes play out. 'Who knew handcuffs, spanking, and floggers could be sexual?'.

Harry was startled from his musings when Michael approached him from the side. "See anything you like?"

Flushing, Harry stammered, "Um no, not really. No. Just watching."

Michael grinned, "Alright, how about I 'just watch' with you". Harry, wide-eyed, simply nodded and set his attention back onto the room in front of him.

After a short time, Michael whispered suggestively, much in the same way that Harry remembered from the night before, "Come on baby, how about a slow dance then I will give you some of the one-on-one attention you seem to want."

Harry could not tell if Michael was just being coy or if he could really pick up on Harry's need for attention. Either way, he decided he didn't care.

That night ended in a similar manner as the night before and Harry again made his way back to Privet drive feeling even more empty than when he had left. Once the night was over, all of the positive feelings he experienced at the club and with Michael seemed to evaporate, leaving him feeling drained.

When he arrived at the Dursleys', Harry was surprised when his Uncle simple glared at him. 'Maybe if we _all_ just pretend that I don't exist when I am here, the summer will go much smoother than normal'

Over the next three weeks, Harry continued his jaunts into London. Sometimes he found Michael, sometimes he found someone new. While he was at the club, he felt wanted and was able to ignore the more negative aspects of his life. Each night, he went through a bit more alcohol and more and more cigarettes. He eventually found the perfect balance between buzzed and drunk and would reach that state an hour after reaching the club, with the help of buying admirers, and would remain that way the rest of the night. He found it easy to gain attention from at least one person each night and let himself be pulled along in whatever direction a man suggested.

On a Friday night at the end of Harry's three week jaunt at the club, Harry was dancing salaciously with Michael when someone new walked into the club.

The new patron made his way to the bar and sent a roving eye over the dance floor. He did a double take when he saw a short teenager with messy black hair and impossible green eyes grinding against a man that was likely twice his age. Unable to immediately process what he was seeing, his only thought was, 'Harry, what the bloody Hell are you thinking?'


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note:** I am actually pretty pleased with this chapter, I hope no one is disappointed.**  
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**Chapter 4: Not What I Need**

If asked, Charlie Weasley would say that there were very few things that would ever surprise him; he worked with dragons for Merlin's sake. But sure, there were things left in the realm of possibility that if they were to occur, he would legitimately be surprised. His father could become bored with Muggle devices, Albus Dumbledore might swear off lemon drops, or perhaps Professor Snape would wash his hair. Anything was technically possible. Hell, a fifteen month old baby survived the killing curse. Surprising, yes, but time had allowed that fact to slowly become a part of his accepted reality.

However, seeing a not quite 16 year old version, 'How the fuck did he get in here?', of said Boy-Who-Lived dancing provocatively in a Muggle club was well outside the realm of possibility. So, before attempting to work this fact into his reality, Charlie decided a closer visual confirmation was required.

As Charlie weaved his way through the dance floor with more grace than one would expect from his muscular frame, he reassured himself that Headmaster Dumbledore would of course be keeping a close eye on Harry Potter. He would never allow Harry to leave the safety of his warded home and wander the club scene in Muggle London. As a matter of fact, in all likelihood, the Headmaster would be making some personal visits to Harry Potter, being that he must be suffering from the loss of his Godfather. The Headmaster would never allow him to wallow in his grief alone. From what he knew about the Muggles that Harry lived with, they were not likely to be very supportive, so someone would have to be checking in with Harry.

When he was about 10 feet from the dark-haired teenager that could not possibly be Harry Potter, Charlie slowed his approach almost to a halt and fell into a lazy rhythm with the music. He blended in well with the rest of the dancers and surreptitiously glanced at the boy who yes indeed was wearing glasses that looked disturbingly similar to Harry Potter's in both their color and non-flattering round shape. The teenager's sweaty hair was falling in his face and his eyes were closed, so the last two discerning features were still hidden. 'I swear I saw green eyes when I first noticed him, though.' A few beats later, the mystery dancer opened his eyes and ran a hand through his hair. Brilliant green eyes were instantly visible and in the moment before the teen smoothed some hair down over his forehead, in what appeared to be a habitual motion, a familiar lightning bolt scar could be seen over the dancer's right brow.

'Oh Harry, what is going on?' was the next thought to run through Charlie's mind. Charlie could not claim to know Harry well. They had spent very little time in each other's company and Ron was not exactly known for his detailed correspondence, even when it concerned descriptions of his friends. However, the Harry that Charlie was familiar with was, while fiery and temperamental at times, almost sweet in his naiveté. Charlie's constructed version of Harry Potter would no doubt run head on into trouble; but he would have no clue how to get into a club while underage and would certainly not be dancing in a way that was practically offering himself up to a man twice his age.

Charlie found himself uncharacteristically rambling mentally, 'Does Dumbledore know what he is up to; hell, does my mother, or even Ron for that matter, know? It can't possibly be safe for him to be wandering this far away from the wards at his Muggle relatives' home. Voldemort is active and obviously not being secretive about his movements anymore, if his actions at the Ministry are anything to go by.'

Having what could prove to be a very personal conversation in the middle of a club would not be the best course of action, so Charlie decided to bide his time, keep an eye on Harry, then intercept him when he left the club.

Working with dragons had made Charlie exceptionally adept at situational awareness, so he did not have any problem remaining unnoticed and keeping a reasonable distance from Harry while still being mindful of his wherabouts.

Another fifteen minutes or so had passed when he saw Harry being led off of the dance floor. With a sense of foreboding, Charlie followed the pair to the back half of the club.

* * *

><p>Harry, as had become the pattern, found himself being led to the quieter, slightly more private part of the club. As usual, that small flicker of self-loathing flashed through Harry's mind, but he didn't dare voice his opinion for fear of Michael becoming bored with him. He desperately needed the comfort that something as simple as proximity to another person - that acknowledged his existence - could provide. Unfortunately, he had no idea how to keep someone close to him. 'Everyone always leaves me at some point whether because they are afraid of me, they get bored because I am not all that they hoped for, or they die. Even Sirius would have left if he hadn't died. As soon as he realized I was not James and never could be, he would have been done with me'.<p>

Once they reached what had seemed to become 'their' nook, Harry was thrown a bit unbalanced by the turn of events. Instead of whispering, kissing, and groping him, Michael turned him to face the wall and began kissing the back of his next. When a hand reached around and unsnapped Harry's trousers, he tensed up. When a hand then made the attempt to push his trousers and boxers down, the apathetic fog that Harry always seemed to lose himself in fell away as though someone had dumped a bucket of ice water on his head. Harry spun around and gasped, "What are you doing?"

In an attempt to be placating, Michael smiled and tipped his head to the side, ran his hands down Harry's arms in a mockery of comfort, and replied, "Harry, don't you want to be closer? Just relax.."

"I'm not that stupid, thanks though" Harry croaked out. He wasn't sure if he wanted to laugh or cry when he brought his hands up and swung his arms out to shake himself out of Michael's grasp. "I, I have to go."

Not giving Michael a chance to respond, Harry stepped out of the alcove, refastened his trousers, and walked hastily out of the club.

Once outside, he lit a cigarette and made it about ten feet from the club. As he exhaled, he felt a hand close on his bicep. Harry spun around, preparing to tell Michael to 'fuck off!', abut instead of Michael's thin body and dark features, he was met with a broad chest and a heavily freckled face topped with a shock of red hair.

Harry stopped short, took another drag from his cigarette, and as he exhaled groaned out, "This is not what I fucking need right now."

Charlie merely raised his eyebrows and prepared for a long night.


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note: **Yes, Charlie is officially here to stay. The next few parts will obviously be Charlie trying to figure out what the heck is going on with Harry. The real romantic and physical aspect of their relationship is still far intothe future (sorry folks) and it is going to take a bit of time for true affections to grow. While Harry may soon be ready to throw himself at Charlie, Charlie is a respectable sort of guy and will want to treat Harry properly. Finally, a random bit of knowledge; I haven't smoked in years but I really miss it. As I was writing this chapter, I realized that I was living vicariously through Harry's smoking habits because I have him lighting up a cigarette at every point that I would have back in my younger days!

**Chapter 5: A Talk With a Friend**

"Really? I reckon you need something, but this is not a conversation for a busy sidewalk. Come on, I have a hotel room a few blocks over. I had planned to be out late and Mum would be furious if I came home close to dawn." Charlie started walking but turned to look behind him when he realized Harry wasn't following.

Harry was standing with his right arm down in front of him holding a cigarette, with his left hand crossed in front of him cradling his right elbow. His head was cocked slightly to the side, his was were slightly squinted, and his lips were parted, suggesting that he was halfway to either asking a question or issuing a protest. Taking in Harry's stance and facial expression, Charlie knew he was in obvious turmoil as to what to do and so stopped and patiently waited.

Harry's decision was apparent when he sighed deeply and began to walk forward. Upon reaching Charlie, he mumbled "Might as well, I don't have anything better to do now."

The walk to the hotel was made in silence. As soon as Harry finished his cigarette, he crossed both arms in front of himself and continued walking with his head down. Glancing over at Harry and picking up on his dark mood, Charlie mentally rolled his eyes and decided that he wished he was facing off with an angry dragon instead of a broody teenager.

Upon walking into the modest hotel room, Harry immediately slumped into a chair at the little dining table in the corner of the room, tossed his pack of cigarettes on the table, and lit another cigarette. Charlie took a seat across from him then reached out and snagged a cigarette from Harry's pack. "You mind, mate?" Harry gave him a negligent wave and Charlie lit his cigarette. "Since when do you smoke, Charlie?" "Meh, I have off and on for years. Just not something I would do at The Burrow" replied Charlie with a grin. "Why, are you afraid of your mother?" In a very serious tone of voice, Charlie answered, "Absolutely, you have met my mother, yeah?" Harry finally made eye contact and inclining his head to Charlie, "Point", which caused both Harry and Charlie to grin.

With the awkward silence broken, Charlie decided to trudge forward and attempt to find out what was going on with Harry. "First of all, how did you get into that club?" Bracing himself for an interrogation, Harry decided to be open on a few minor points. "Well," taking a drag on his cigarette, Harry continued, "the first night I walked in with someone who apparently knew the bouncer and so he never said anything. The next night I guess I got lucky because he only gave my Identification Card a quick look, then I walked in with someone the next few nights. After that, the bouncers all knew me and never said anything."

"Fair enough. What possessed you to go there in the first place?""It seemed like a good idea at the time" was Harry's obstinate reply. "Alright, what made you start smoking?" "It seemed like a good idea at the time."

Realizing he wasn't getting anywhere with his current line of questioning, Charlie took a hard look at Harry as he contemplated the best way to approach the conversation. What he saw in Harry's face worried him. Going by the dark circles under his eyes, Charlie could see that he hadn't slept very much recently and his face was much too thin. Harry was always quite thin, but now his face was starting to take on a very sharp look due to his protruding cheek bones.

Charlie's next words surprised Harry out of his silent brooding. "How about I run next door and get us something to drink and snack on. If you are good and stay put, I will even bring you another pack of cigarettes. Wash up if you want, make yourself at home" Confused, Harry simply nodded and watched Charlie walk out the door. He briefly considered leaving but then imagined what would happen if Charlie were to go knocking on the Dursley's door. 'Guess, I'll be staying then'.

* * *

><p>Charlie wasn't surprised at all to find Harry deeply asleep when he returned. Harry was laying on the bed, fully clothed, on his back with his legs hanging off the end. 'He looks like he sat down on the edge of the bed, fell asleep, and <em>then<em> fell backwards.' Admitting to himself that Harry very likely did just that, Charlie set his purchases down on the table and debated waking Harry up to eat something real quick or at the very least get some water in him. 'I really hate to disturb him but he looks like he hasn't eaten a proper meal in a month. Mum would be having a fit.' Against his better judgment,though, Charlie decided to let him sleep. He assured himself that rest was just as important as food.

Stripping down to his boxers, Charlie pulled on a pair of pajama pants before collecting a spare blanket from the linen closet. He then pulled Harry closer to the head of the double bed so that Harry's head would at least be on a pillow and his legs would no longer be dangling over the side. He slipped Harry's shoes off, and tucking the blanket around him, Charlie took another long look at Harry's face, only closer this time. The dark circles under his eyes were even more apparent, but so too was the haggard look that was still visible in sleep. Charlie then brushed the tips of his fingers across Harry's forehead to brush the stray hair out of his face but pulled his fingers back when they encountered moisture. He speculatively pulled his fingers back to inspect them and found small smears of blood on his fingertips. Brushing the rest of Harry's hair away from his forehead, he saw that Harry's scar was inflamed and seemed to be seeping small droplets of blood. 'Is that normal for him? I'll ask him tomorrow. Well, provided our talk tomorrow goes better than today's.' Resigning himself to have to wait for more concrete answers, he crawled under the covers on the space next to Harry, and let himself fall asleep.

* * *

><p>Not surprisingly, Charlie woke up to Harry tying his shoes, collecting his cigarettes, and then moving toward the door. "Where are you going, Harry? You know you really shouldn't be walking around by yourself." Harry let his head drop back in an obvious sign of irritation and turned around to face Charlie. "Look, why do you care? You can't say it is because you know me so well, because you don't. Even those that claim to know me well don't see the need to poke their nose into my business."<p>

'Well, that was revealing.' "Harry, I care because you are a human being and you look like shit. Not to mention the fact that you are an _underage _human being that was following a man to an area where most people go to fuck against a wall. Wouldn't you care if you saw one of your classmates doing the same things you were and looking like something Hagrid rescued from a gutter in Knockturn Alley?"

"I do not look like Precious, thank you very much.""Wait, what? Precious?"

Harry smirked, "Yeah, you really need to go visit Hagrid, you'll see what I mean. He told me he found her when…""Stop Harry. Despite that I am very impressed with that amazing, not to mention informative, method of changing the focus of the conversation, we need to go back to the bit about underage humans."

"Honestly Charlie, I'm fine. I just like to get out of the house sometimes.""Yes well, while I can appreciate that, it still does not explain the fact that you have not been taking care of yourself. What did the Headmaster say the last time you spoke with him?"

Knitting his brow in confusion, Harry asked, "What do you mean, I haven't spoke to the Headmaster since we had a… discussion… in his office at the end of term.""Hasn't he been writing at least? I should think that he would drop by to visit you after.."Charlie hesitated, "Well, after everything that happened last year."

At this point, Charlie could see that Harry was getting increasingly agitated. "I don't think that he has set foot at number four Privet Drive since he dropped me on the doorstep.""Wouldn't he have at least had to check in on you at some point?" "Huh, you would think so wouldn't you?" muttered Harry.

At a loss for words and unable to decide whether or not they were getting off track again, Charlie went ahead and suggested breakfast. "Why don't you wait to make any decisions until after breakfast? I picked up some tea, rolls, and something called breakfast bars." "You bought breakfast bars and you don't even know what they are?" Adopting an innocent look, Charlie replied "Hey, they have chocolate in them and say high-energy. I am a growing boy that loves his chocolate."Laughing despite himself, Harry simply said "Right" and picked up a breakfast bar.

Charlie couldn't help but smile inwardly. He wasn't ignorant about the Muggle world, he enjoyed the night life and so was quite familiar with Muggle stores, clubs, and terminology. He had known exactly what he was buying; he had wanted to get something nutritious and high in calories that Harry was likely to eat.

'Well, breakfast can possibly be deemed a success, let's see how the rest of the day goes.'


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Note:** I am sorry for the short length (I know I personally hate super short updates), but this is more of an interlude to help set the stage. I had a hard time with this chapter and I am still not really satisfied, but it is what it is. Plus, Harry seems pretty melodramatic this chapter but he just refused to be written any other way. Things start to pick up and lengthen here soon, I promise!

**Interlude:** **Food for Thought**

Harry found that he could eat a lot more with friendly company. He hadn't been able to eat much of anything since the end of term. For some reason, his aunt kept setting bread and soup in his room every day, even though he hardly touched it. He was sure that it was more out of concern for her own welfare than anything else. Beyond that, he sometimes grabbed something to eat while he was out, but his primary source of nutrition for the past three weeks had been coffee and cigarettes.

While having breakfast with Charlie was nice, he was still at a loss as to what the man wanted. His intentions seemed sincere, but he was always surrounded by people with good intentions and that had never turned out well for Harry. He was sure that Dumbledore had the best of intentions when he left him at the Dursley's; but while he may have been safe from Death Eaters, there was nothing there to protect him from his aunt's sharp tongue and his uncle's heavy-handedness.

Harry was also sure that the Headmaster had the best of intentions when keeping him in the dark for the past five years about everything, particularly the prophecy. Unfortunately, that plan ended in disaster as well. His Godfather had become just another person on a long list to leave him. His parents were gone, his only living blood relatives abandoned him emotionally the day that Dumbledore essentially abandoned him on their doorstep. His friends could not be trusted to stand by him. Even now, they were probably deciding how best to avoid Harry next year. Even if his Godfather had not died, he knew that Sirius would have left him as soon as he realized that he was not a reincarnation of James. He had been attached to Remus Lupin, but even his presence after third year had been almost non-existent.

The past few weeks had been a distraction from his morose thoughts and he had found that he did know how to keep people interested in him enough to stick around. He knew Michael would always look for him at the club and he knew how to get the attention of anyone else that might come along. He only had to give up a small part of himself and really, what did it matter when there wasn't that much of himself left anyway?

* * *

><p>Charlie slowly ate his breakfast, more to encourage Harry to eat than out of actual hunger. He spent the companionable silence in thought, contemplating his next steps. The only thing he knew was that Harry could not go back to his relatives and could not be allowed to continue as he had been. Charlie's first thought had been to take Harry to the Headmaster, but after Harry said that he had not heard from the Headmaster since the end of term, he had begun to doubt his plan. 'Why had no one kept in touch with Harry? Did they expect him to send him off for the summer and have him come back whole and ready to fight? What a mess.'<p>

Charlie could not help but think about why he cared so much about what happened to Harry. He had only told a half truth when he had told Harry that he would do the same for anyone. He would of course, but he would not be sitting here trying to make long-term plans for just anyone.

If he was honest with himself, he knew that he had admired Harry in more ways than one since the Tri-Wizard tournament. He couldn't help but remember the flush of attraction he felt when he saw Harry out-flying the Horntail during the first task. At the time, his thoughts had made him feel a bit dirty. Charlie could not help but think that it was wrong to be attracted to a 14 year old. Even now, Harry was not quite sixteen and Charlie still felt a bit guilty. However, he felt it was a redeeming factor that he was not just physically attracted to Harry. Harry had always been so vibrant and determined, no matter the situation and Charlie loved to be around him for that reason. Plus -and he smiled inwardly at his assumption at how indignant Harry would be if he told him what he was thinking- Harry was just so sweet. He wanted justice for everyone without ever thinking about himself.

And wasn't that the crux of the issue? Harry did not think about himself; at least not in the way that he should. He would never just ask for help or support under the assumption that he is entitled to it simply because he is a person. He seemed to think of every interaction as an exchange, which was not inherently bad, but Harry always seemed to give himself the short end of the stick in his interactions with others.

That particular characteristic of Harry's was what seemed to raise all of Charlie's protective instincts. He felt compelled to go in and correct all of life's injustices for Harry and then run his fingers through his hair at the end of the day. 'Hmm, melodramatic much, Charlie' was his thought to himself.

'So, since I am being melodramatic anyway, how can I help fix this mess for Harry?' Charlie decided that the Headmaster was truly the best place to start, but he would be making that trip alone.

Satisfied with his plan of action, Charlie continued to finish his meal.


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's Note:** Sorry about the delay, my husband just got back from a deployment so I have been a bit distracted.

**Chapter 7: Finding the Truth**

As he watched Harry finish his breakfast, Charlie found a plan beginning to form in his mind. He would have Harry spend the day in the hotel room while he paid a visit to Hogwarts. He needed to speak to Hagrid and the Headmaster about their request for Charlie to temporarily substitute the Care of Magical Creatures class anyway; he would just let the topic drift to other recent events. Hopefully he would be able to gather enough information to be able to decipher his next step.

"Harry "began Charlie, "I have some errands to run today. Do you think that you would be alright here for the day?"

"That's alright Charlie, I really don't want to be a bother. I need to get back to the Dursley's anyway" replied Harry dimly.

Charlie mentally dug in his heels for what could prove to be a long battle. "You are never a bother, please don't think that. Seeing how late you were out and where you were, I highly doubt that the Dursley's are going to take issue with your absence during the day." Seeing that Harry had started to open his mouth to protest, Charlie hurriedly continued "I can keep this room as long as necessary; I just have some business to take care of at Hogwarts today. While I am gone, I really think you should rest and eat as much as possible."

Instantly on his guard, Harry asked "What business do you have at Hogwarts?"

"Well" Charlie coyly replied "you take Care of Magical Creatures, yeah?" Upon Harry's nod, he continued, "Let's just say that you may be seeing me during that particular class."

With an expression more lively than Charlie had yet to see from Harry, Harry replied "Really? That would be brilliant! Hagrid is great and all, but I reckon you would have a lot of different and exciting experiences to share. Hagrid can be exciting, but it can be more along the lines of 'fear for your life' exciting, if you know what I mean."

Charlie couldn't help but laugh. "Yeah, based on Hagrid's definition of harmless, I can only imagine some of the creatures that you have studied in his class." Harry simply nodded in agreement.

"So, as I said, while I am at Hogwart's, I think you should just rest and snack, then I will come back with dinner. How does that sound."

"I guess that is fine" replied Harry hesitantly, "as long as it is not a bother."

"No bother at all. Just promise me that you will be here when I get back."

Harry did not answer right away, and Charlie was not sure if that was a good or a bad thing. In what appeared to be an attempt to occupy his hands, Harry quickly reached for and lit a cigarette. Charlie was practically holding his breath as Harry inhaled and tipped his head back. As he brought his head back to face Charlie, he exhaled and said "Alright, as long as I am not causing you any problems."

Charlie looked at Harry intently, and said in a sure voice "Harry, you could never cause a problem for me. In fact, I look forward to coming back here to spend some more time with you." Charlie had to fight hard to suppress a grin as Harry obviously blushed, his cheeks and even his ears turning a bright shade of red. "Alright then? I am going to head out and I will be back no later than dinner time."

Looking decidedly uncomfortable, Harry replied soflty "That's fine, I'll be here".

Smiling, Charlie said "Good, I'll see you later then." With a crack, Charlie apparated out of the room; leaving a very confused and flustered Harry behind.

Charlie apparated to the edge of Hogwarts' wards and made his way over to see Hagrid. He really did want to see Harry's diversionary tactic otherwise known as Precious. As he approached Hagrid's hut, he couldn't help but cringe as he saw Hagird wrestling something into a box. The 'something' was not very large but it was emitting smoke; a very dense, strong smelling smoke. 'Well, I think this is going to be a quick visit.

Charlie waved his hand and shouted "Morning Hagrid, how are you?" Hagrid closed up the box, wiped his hands on his jacket, and turned to smile at Charlie. "Oi Charlie Weasley, how are ye'" "Quite well, Hagrid, thought I would stop to say hello before I head on up to talk to the Headmaster."

Hagrid smiled and replied, "always good te' see ye' Charlie, how 'bout a cuppa'?" "I'll have to take you up on that next time, Hagrid. I can only imagine what the Headmaster is going to try and feed me." Toward the end of his sentence, a small, cat like creature started butting its head against Charlie's leg. Charlie reached down to pet it and murmured. "Well, aren't you a sweet little hairball?"

"That there is Precious, foun' 'er in Knockturn Alley. Cute as can be, but watch out for those claws." Charlie laughed, "I take it she is a scratcher?"

"Aye, and the venom that leaks out of the claws will have you unconscious in ten seconds. Dead in ten minutes without an antidote." Charlie's eyes widened and his hand stopped moving as he took a closer look at the 'cat'. When the 'cat' seemed to give him the evil eye for daring to pause the petting, Charlie carefully resumed his previous ministrations.

"Well, Hagrid, Precious, I best be off. I look forward to seeing you soon." Charlie slowly drew his hand away and stepped back from Precious. Seemingly annoyed, she sauntered off to assumedly get more affection from Hagrid. "Alrigh' Charlie, see ye' then!"

Charlie made his way up to the castle and toward the Headmaster's office. The Gargoyle seemed to be expecting him and immediately moved to the side. Upon entering the Headmaster's office, he was greeted with the offer of tea and lemon drops. Charlie graciously accepted the tea and passed on the lemon drops. He chatted with the Headmaster about his responsibilities for the upcoming term and about various procedures and expectations for Hogwarts staff members.

An opening finally presented itself for Charlie to slip in a question about Harry. "How is Harry faring, Headmaster? I know he has had a difficult year." The Headmaster waved his hand as if to brush off the concern and said, "Harry is a resilient boy. He is home with his family and I have the utmost confidence that his family will take care of his melancholy."

Charlie frowned internally. "Oh, so you have talked to him then." The Headmaster smiled, "No, no, I would hate to take away time from his realtives, they have done well by him thus far. He does send an owl every three days so that the Order knows that he is well."

Charlie found himself almost unable to respond. "Well, if you are sure that his relatives are taking care of him. I know they have been a bit dodgy in the past."

"I don't know about that, most everything I have heard has been typical teenager and guardian conflicts." Charlie smiled and nodded, "true, true, I can only imagine what Harry manages to get into at home." Dumbledore chuckled, "No doubt."

"Well Headmaster, if there isn't anything else, I should be heading out. I am sure my mother is practically going spare." The Headmaster stood and walked Charlie to the door of his office. "Then my boy, you should not keep her waiting. Take care and we shall meet again a week prior to term."

"Thank you Headmaster, goodbye."

As Charlie rode the staircase down, his thoughts were a jumble. He could not figure out if the Headmaster was in denial or actually senile; and Charlie wasn't sure which one would be better.

'One thing is for certain , though, Harry is not going back to the Dursley's; and won't that just open a can of flobberworms.'


End file.
